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Camilio, the sonne of Prosper, the sonne of Theodoro, the sonne of John, the sonne of Thomas, second brother of Constantine Paleologus, the 8th of the name, and last of that lyne that rayned in Constantinople until subdued by the Turks; who married with Mary, the daughter of William Balls, of Hadlye, in Souffolke, gent., and had issue 5 children, Theodoro, John, Ferdinando, Maria, and Dorothy; and departed this life at Clyfton, the 21 st of Janyl636."

Above the inscription are the imperial arms proper of the empire of Greece—an eagle displayed with two heads, the two legs resting upon two gates; the imperial crown over the whole, and between the gates a crescent for difference as second son.

Clyfton, above mentioned, was an ancient mansion of the Arundel family in the parish of Landulph.


We have all heard that neither serpents nor any venomous thing can exist in Ireland; the fact is asserted by the gravest historians of old times. Giraldus Cambrensis tells the following story in his Irish history, and says the thing happened in his time.

"One day a knot of youngsters in the north of England went to take a nap in the fields. As one of them lay snoring with his mouth wide open, as though he would catch flies, an ugly serpent or adder slipped into his mouth and glided down into his belly, where, harbouring itself, it began to roam up and down, and to feed on the youth's entrails. This 'greedy guest' sorely tormented him for a long time. The worm would never cease from gnawing the patient's carcass, but when he had taken his repast, and his meal was no sooner digested than it would give afresh onset in boring his guts. Divers remedies were sought,—as medicines, pilgrimages to saints,— but all would not prevail. Being at length schooled by the grave advice of some sage and expert father, who willed him to make his speedy repair to Ireland, where neither snake nor adder would live, he presently thereupon would tract no time, but busked himself over sea and arrived in Ireland. He had no sooner drunk of the water of that island and eaten of the victuals thereof, but forthwith he killed the snake, avoided it downwards, and so, being lusty and lively, he returned into England." This curious story is repeated by old William Winstanley in his ' Historical Rarities,' which is now a rare book.



There is a curiously written modern German romance which has attracted extraordinary attention from the singular nature of the main incident, on which the whole story turns. Peter Schlimmel, the hero of the tale, is a shadowless man, having sold his shadow, as Doctor Faustus sold his soul, to the devil, for certain valuable considerations. Whether by the light of sun, moon, stars, torches, lamps, chandeliers, wax-lights, tallow candles, or bonfires, the body of Peter casts no shade either before him, or behind him, or on either side of him; and the deprivation of this valuable appendage proves the curse of his life, for he finds that nobody can tolerate a man without a shadow. Even in the happiest moments of love, when abroad with him in groves and moonshine the mistress of his soul is about to yield to his ardent suit, he loses all his advantages by her companion's discovering his defect and suddenly exclaiming, " God bless my soul! the gentleman has got no shadow !"—on which the ladies shriek and withdraw. Whenever Peter appears in the streets, the little boys shout after him, "There goes the man that has got no shadow!" In short, Peter to the names of persons, but were extended to places as well, travestying and rendering unintelligible the names of countries, cities, towns, villages, rivers, and lakes, in a barbarous Latinity. This was so much the case with De Thou'8 voluminous and valuable history, that in the last English edition of the work it was considered absolutely necessary to give a re-translation of these names, or the colloquial and real names of places, for the Latin names that stood for them, and which for ages had been a complete puzzle to the large majority of readers.

Noel d'Argonne, who dramatizes his essay, and refers the settlement of the question to a senate of the learned, makes the meeting decide on the following imperative rules :—

That M. Du Cange shall be ordered to explain in the Supplement to his Glossary all the proper names which nave been Latinized since the fall of the Roman empire.

That an express prohibition shall be laid on all authors, present and to come, under penalty of eternal obscurity and the ferula of grammarians, never more to Latinize the proper names of men, of titles, dignities, provinces, cities, mountains, seas, and rivers.

And, finally, That in order to smother every seed of war and quarrel, the lamentable and accursed invention of translating proper names from one language into another shall be banished for ever ad calcem Pancyroli de rebus inveniis et perditis.

The names of offices, lands, &c., has given rise to some perplexity, which has been increased by laxity in the use of Christian names. Henry Brabantiu, William de Merbeck, and Thomas de Cantempre, are all one and the same person—no doubt the real prototype of Mrs. Malaprop's Cerberus. Jerome Cardan is also Hieronymus Castellioneus, and Johannes Roffensis may be either Bishop Fisher of Rochester or John Montague of Rochester. But Cerberus above mentioned has been beaten by a neck by Peter Bibliothecarius, alias Diaconus, alias Cassincnsis, alias Ostiensis.

The transposition of letters, or anagrams, was sometimes used for purposes of concealment, and very effectively done by leaving; out or adding letters. Thus Messalinus would hardly be guessed to have come from Salmasius, or Cesare Leone Fruscadino from Francesco Maria de Luco Sereni. But Gustavus for Augustus, Lucianus and Alcuinus for Calvinus, Volcmarus Kirstenius for Macer Jurisconsultus, are good enough.

Some authors called their several chapters by the letters of their names; but Fordun placed at the head of his Scottish Chronicle three verses as follows, in which the first letters of each word together make up Johannes de Fordun:—

Incipies opus hoc Adonai: nomine nostri
Exceptum scriptis dirigat Emanuel.
Fauces ornate ructent, dum verbera nectant.

Jean de Vauzelles announced his work by the motto Crainte de Dieb vaut zele; and Pierre de Mesmes by the Italian Per me stesso son sasso, which literally in French is de moi-memeje suis Pierre, which he intended should be transposed as follows—Moi, je suis Pierre de Mesmes.

The substitution of initial letters instead of names and titles was common enough, and was borrowed from the practice of the Jews, but stripped of all point by the absence of the vowel, which is assumed or understood between the consonants of the Hebrew. Thus J. C. A. A. P. E. I. stood for Jean Cusson, Avocat au Parlement et Imprimeur, and F. J. F. C. R. S. T. P. A. P. C. for Frater Johannes Fronto, Canonicus Regularis, Sacrae Tbeologiae Professor, Academies Parisiensis Cancellarius.

The lengthening of names in the following manner frequently took place: Guillet became Guillet de la Guilletiere, Thaumas became Thaumas de la Thaumassiere,* &c.

In closing this article, we observe that we can by no

* We may sometimes catch the incidents of modern novels in such apparently dry disquisitions as those of Baillet.

very soon repents of his bargain, and would give the devil his substance to get his shade back again.

Very few of the persons who have been amused by this extravagant idea of a man without a shadow are aware that the notion is a very ancient one, and that according to the Greeks the gods deprived men of their shades for a certain act of intrusion or impiety. Theopompus, as quoted by Polybius, seriously asserts that all those who dared to enter the temple of Jupiter in Arcadia were punished with a strange chastisement—». e. their bodies no longer gave any shadow.

Pausanias repeats the same story in a somewhat more circumstantial manner, and adds a punishment which seems at first sight more serious than the loss of one's shade. He says that on Lycaeus, a mountain of Arcadia, there was a place held sacred to Jupiter and inaccessible to mortals; and that if any man braved the prohibition and entered therein, from that time his body, though exposed to the rays of the sun, cast no shadow, and he died within a year.—See Theopomp. ap. Polyb. lib. xvi. and Pausan. in Arcad.


One of the most celebrated dilemmas is one of the most ancient. A rhetorician had instructed a youth in the art of pleading, on condition that he was to be remunerated only in case his pupil should gain the first cause in which he was engaged. The youth immediately brought an action against his teacher, of which the object was to be freed from the obligation which he had contracted, and then endeavoured to perplex his instructor with this dilemma: "If I gain my suit," said he, "the authority of the court will absolve me from paying you; if I lose, I am exonerated by our contract." The rhetorician answered by a similar dilemma: "If you gain your suit, you must pay me according to our contract; if you lose

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